Fighting Terrorism With Hugs
by Trinity Everett
Summary: Tony, Michelle, hugs. Fluff. Enjoy!


Title: Fighting Terrorism with Hugs

Characters: Tony Almeida/Michelle Dessler

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Day 2

Category: Fluff

Author's Notes: As a matter of fact, yes, I did write this when I should have been choreographing. What of it? ;) I will find a fanfic100 prompt to make this into, but for now, it's for the Pan Fandom Day of Hugging.

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"You give good hugs, you know," Michelle announced one day around a mouthful of turkey sandwich. She smiled at his reaction to her completely random statement, looking around the break room quickly before reaching out to nudge his mouth closed. He jumped when her fingers connected with the coarse stubble on his jaw – he'd been on for over 15 hours and hadn't had a chance to even think about shaving – and Michelle answered with a delicate, shy blush. 

Scooting his chair a little closer to hers, he snagged her hand as it attempted to retreat back into her lap. This time it was Michelle's turn to start as his thumb started making slow, deliberate circles around her knuckles. Slyly, he turned her hand over and ducked his head to kiss the inside of her wrist. Michelle's other hand stilled, and the sandwich she'd been about to lift to her mouth flopped back on to the paper towel it had been wrapped in.

"So good hugs, huh?" he asked conversationally, keeping hold of her hand but grabbing her sandwich to steal a bite. He'd long-since finished his own lunch, but hadn't had the energy to go back to work when he could stay and talk to her. They'd only been out on one date – half of one, really, since they'd been called into work in the middle of the movie – so he'd take any opportunity to make it past the awkward stage.

"Yeah," she looked at him quickly, colored, and looked down at her sandwich.

"What makes it good? Is there some sort of criteria?"

"Keep mocking me, Tony; see who brings who coffee tomorrow when his double is over."

"No, I wanna know. What makes my hugs – any hugs – good? 'Cause I just, you know, hug."

Michelle took her hand back, preferring to wrap her fingers around her bottle of water.

"They're strong, firm. Not wimpy. You hug like you mean it, not like you're ten and your mom made you."

He chuckled, remembering how he used to turn his nose up in disgust at the thought of his arms going anywhere near someone else in affection.

"Makes sense. Those the only qualifications for good hugs?"

She looked at him sideways, gauging whether he was teasing her again.

"Shouldn't you get back to work, Director Almeida?" she asked, raising her water bottle to her lips.

"I'm doing research. Fighting terrorism with hugs."

Michelle snorted, and he thanked her silently for not sputtering her water at him.

"I wanna see you take that tactical suggestion to Chappelle. You might wanna throw in a practical demonstration, too. That'll really sell it."

"Now who's mocking who?" he asked, reaching for the last bite of her sandwich and popping it into his mouth.

"Tony!" she protested, slapping his shoulder. "You already ate your lunch, no fair taking mine, too."

"I'll buy you dinner," he promised, impulsively standing and holding out his hand. "C'mere, I'll make you feel better with one of my fantastic hugs."

After making him haul her to her feet, Michelle came easily into his arms. As he enfolded her in an embrace, cupping her head with one hand, she slid her arms around his back squeezing him with the same strength. Just like that day last week, it was easy to forget where he was with her standing pressed against him, and his eyes closed on their own accord.

When the silence became noticeable, he smiled against the side of her head. "Definitely going to propose this to Division. Mandatory lunch time hugs."

Michelle laughed into his shoulder. "It can be part of new employee training."

"Mmm."

"Maybe you should make it a Director's Privilege," she suggested. "Since you seem to be enjoying it."

"Good idea. No fewer than three hugs a day from Director Almeida from now on."

Giggling, Michelle squeezed him. "You're so modest, Tony. But we probably should get back to work."

Reluctantly, he nodded. With one last hearty squeeze he released her.

"After we're done here, feel like dinner and the rest of that movie I owe you?"

"Sounds good." She smiled, gathering her trash and moving toward the door.

"Hey, Michelle?"

She stopped, brushing an errant curl behind her ear and smiling that same open, honest smile she always graced him with.

"Be prepared to hug more after dinner."

Laughing, she nodded. "Addict."

He grinned.

END.


End file.
